National storyteller Ed Stivender showcased our inaugural “Have A

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BE CON
The
Volume 23
Number 1
Summer
2014
BEACON STREET newsletter
National storyteller Ed Stivender
showcased our inaugural
“Have A Heart”
Late Winter Storytelling Festival
“The kingdom of heaven is like a party.” St. Francis of Assisi, aka Ed Stivender, wakes us up to what could be.
The story of Cinderella
will never be the same
after Ed’s rendition
with harmonica in hand.
Photos courtesy of Jamie Castle
“Knock, knock.”
(Don’t miss the foot)
This year we departed from our annual tradition of hosting a dinner and silent auction
in favor of celebrating an art form we rely on in every program we offer -- storytelling.
It worked out so well, we are well underway with planning for next year’s event.
In this issue: Take a look back at our “Have A Heart” festival at the Breen Center for the Performing Arts.
Journey with artistic director Bob Kloos as he travels with son David en route to an unforgettable Easter Vigil.
Another traveler missed a rendezvous with Akhi, but the beggar was absent from his gate for a good reason.
A quarterly magazine celebrates the effectiveness of stories as a means of changing our culture.
We remember an inspirational friend who featured on this page many years ago -- John Biro, Resurrection Man.
Page 2
The Beacon
Summer
What’s Mime is Yours from artistic director Bob Kloos
I know there are long gaps between our quarterly
newsletters. That’s because I only get them out twice
a year! I still think quarterly is a good idea, but it appears it is too ambitious for me right now. And I still
like to print them on recycled paper because they are
easy to pass on to others, they can be left in waiting rooms, and they even work as place markers in
books you are reading. So be patient with me, and put
this newsletter to good use until the next one comes.
Thanks.
This issue was fun to put together. Not everything
on these few precious pages has to do with contracted
programs, but all of it has to do with the life experiences that find their way into stories I tell, puppets
that plot, games we play, and how we reflect on the
reign of God in our midst. I hope you enjoy the diversity herein and can appreciate the thread of good news
that runs through every page.
Julie Beers has served on our board for more than
three years. Julie is the Principal at Campus International School, a Cleveland Metropolitan School
District school partnered with Cleveland State University. Currently it is a K thru 6 school that will add
an additional grade each year until it is K thru 12. The
good news is that CIS was just accredited as an International Baccalaureate School.
Being named an “IB World School” denotes that
Campus International has completed an intensive,
18-month review process and demonstrated that students receive instruction from a rigorous curriculum
with an international focus. Students also learn Mandarin Chinese. Congratulations Julie!
Photos and reminiscences of our “Late Winter
Storytelling Festival” should convince you that our
departure from the dinner and silent auction venue
was a good move. See more “Have A Heart” – a look
back on page 4.
Save the dates: March 13 and 14. Our 2015 “Have
A Heart” fundraiser hopes to bring Syd Lieberman to
town for some remarkable opportunities for stories,
workshops, and more. Syd comes with a profound
appreciation for his Jewish heritage, but his preference is for personal stories, his and ours. He will do
his best to draw the best out of us! Beacon Street is
working closely with the Jewish Educational Center
of Cleveland to convene diverse audiences under one
roof early next spring. Stay tuned for all the details in
the winter Beacon.
September seems to be the month for high school
retreats. Five are scheduled already. Typically I arrive
with everything I need for a full day for an entire class
of students, most often first year students or sophomores. Moderators ask for a focus on inclusivity, community building, or making good choices. Students
just want to have fun. So Beacon Street manages both
with a variety of activities from which students draw
the lessons.
I really enjoy follow-up letters and notes from
students. Some include artwork! Theology teachers
occasionally set aside a few moments of class time
the following week and the kids celebrate the salient points of the day. And if the experience is vivid
enough, it will easily be recalled weeks and months
down the road, so all the teacher has to do is hit the
“REFRESH” button and the retreat moment returns.
If your high school is looking for help with a retreat
experience, Beacon Street has ideas and references at
the ready. Just call.
All of our Beacon newsletters, from the earliest
issues, are online at Beacon-Street.org. And you are
more than welcome to request that we take you off
our mailing list if you prefer to read it online. Or let us
know now and we will email the Beacon to you and
save the paper. It is completely up to you. But I would
like you to consider putting the paper copy into the
hands of a principal or pastor or librarian or generous
patron. Nothing makes me happier than an inquiry
from a new client or a donation from someone who
supports our mission to proclaim the good news using
the performing arts. THANKS.
The Beacon is published by Beacon Street, an Ohio nonprofit organization since 1988. Bob Kloos, editor
and artistic director. Board of Directors: Julie Beers, President; Lou Geneva, Secretary; Jeff Jeney;
Joseph Rinderknecht, VP; and John Sideras, Treasurer. Printed at Orange Blossom Press, Cleveland, OH.
(orangeblossompress.com) Contact us at Beacon Street, Box 21029, Cleveland, OH. 44121-0029.
216.291.1367. beacon-street@sbcglobal.net. beacon-street.org.
Page 3
The Beacon
Summer
R eSo ur c es R eS ou r c e s R e S o u r c e s R e S o ur ces
“Story Power”
-Summer 2014
Morgan Freeman once asked me to do him a favor.
Not in person; it was an email. And actually, he was
asking me to do myself a favor. “Subscribe to ‘YES!’
magazine,” he wrote to me out of the blue. “It will
change your life. It changed mine.” I have always
admired Mr. Freeman, his voice, his demeanor on
screen. And the price was right. I sent the coupon in.
YES! started showing up every three months, and
always with a provocative cover that made me drop
the rest of the mail. The latest issue was no exception. “Story Power” it read in the center of the bright
yellow cover. Just inside there was a color photo
of Nadezhda Duvan, the last living shaman of the
Ulchi People of Siberia. She was performing the bear
dance. Wisps of smoke danced between her raised
hands and I think I saw the image of a bear in there
somewhere.
At the top of the page, there is a quote from Barry
Lopez, Crow and Weasel: “The stories people tell
have a way of taking care of them. If stories come
to you, care for them. And learn to give them away
where they are needed.” How often do you open a
magazine and find your life mission printed on the
inside cover?
“From the Editor” was on the opposite page,
alongside her photo. Her editorial was titled: “What’s
Your Story?” The first graph read: “If you want to
understand people, ask for their stories. Listen long
enough, and you learn not only the events of their
lives, but their sources of meaning, what they value,
what they most want.” Those few sentences pretty
much capture the rest of the issue – it “looks at the
ways new voices are being heard, and at how their
stories are transforming our culture.”
New voices are often untried voices, coming from
people like you and me who are more often than not
just one of many in the crowd, the congregation, the
corporation, or the student body. And it is when those
new voices see possibilities that they feel the urge to
speak up, especially when they envision something
better. But will we be heard? Tt’s not a function of
our timidity if it isn’t. Sometimes there are other
voices that are bigger, louder, and flashier than ours.
But we dare not be silent.
It was Rabbi Hillel who said something like “compassion, justice, mercy: that’s the whole law – the
rest is commentary.” When we stumble on that truth,
we can hardly keep it to ourselves. A story can be the
steppingstone for transformation in our culture, one
that is compassionate, just, and full of mercy. The
teller gives the story wings, and once it is told, a story
lands only until it flies again.
And, I believe, a story is a very efficient tool
for inviting change. Like any art form, storytelling
awakens nodding senses and kindles an imagination
into eagerness to make room for the “better” that we
long for. Stories use words, easily accessible strokes
for our brush, which explore every inch of the canvas.
We tell them all day long. Some are very short. All
are worth telling.
The latest issue of YES! is dedicated to the power
of stories and the struggle to have them “heard over
Big Media promoting the official version.” “Can We
Keep the Internet Free?” is a short article about accessibility. Other offerings in YES! remind us of the
possibilities that online community news, low power
FM radio, documentary films present to us. Novelists
and photographers create new images, too.
There is visual story called “Silent Spring” by
Chris Jordan. It depicts 183,000 birds, the estimated
number that die in the United States every day from
exposure to agricultural pesticides. It is accompanied
by a tribute to Rachel Carson’s classic of the same
name from 1962. It was that book that made me ask
the question over and over again: “Who is in charge
here?” If we aren’t, then somebody else is.
These are challenges I am often asked to address
in my programming. School cultures change not with
a new principal or superintendent, but because a critical number of people in the school decide that things
will be different. “We First” is our K thru 12 bullying
prevention initiative that suggests the solution is already in the building, but students need to wake up to
the difference they can make. Every one is accountable, but what is needed is enough of them to join the
chorus of “no” to unwanted behavior.
YES! lifts up stories as modern-day change agents.
YES! is lifting up the tellers, too.
Previous issues addressed education, food, and the
“Human Cost of Stuff.” The online video from Annie
Leonard, “The Story of Stuff,” will convince you that
Annie has something of value to say to you in that
back issue.
So if Morgan Freeman’s invitation is not impressive enough, take it from me. YES! will open your
eyes, make you uncomfortable, plant seeds of hope,
and, if your friends see it on the coffee table, label
you as “progressive.” That sounds exactly like what
the gospel is supposed to do.
Reading Yes! is like having some friends over for a
discussion about what is happening in our world,
large and small.
Page 4
The Beacon
Summer
Artfully done, a look back at the “Late Winter Storytelling Festival”
We built it, and they came. More than 200 participants joined us for a day of storytelling at the Breen
Center for the Performing Arts last February for our
annual “Have A Heart” fundraiser. Piled high and
piled everywhere, the snow shown brilliantly on a
sunny Saturday as teachers, librarians, and story lovers from all points east, south, and west of Cleveland
arrived for workshops and an evening concert.
Three exchange students from KSU gobbled up
the workshops and one asked if “Certificates of Participation” would be awarded to attendees. I printed
up just three and presented them along with Beacon
Street T-shirts.
A chaplain from MetroHealth pulled me aside
at the end of the day. “My colleagues and I at the
hospital gather monthly to share stories. This event
is so important. If you need any help next year, let
me know. We’ll even hold the doors open for your
guests.” He slipped me a piece of paper torn out of
the program with his email
address scribbled on it.
A school superintendent
from a west side suburb
wrote “I really enjoyed the
workshop” on the evalu
ation form, while a retired
librarian wrote: “This
tastes like ‘more’.” I had
mentioned in the workshop
that when former Beacon
Street artist Barb Ballenger really enjoyed the pie
after one of our Elyria UCC jobs, she would use those
very words.
My cousin Judy came all the way from Georgia to
take in the day. Her son Carl discovered the West Side
Market during his lunch break and we didn’t see him
again for hours. Even in the midst of our unforgettable winter, he allowed himself to be surprised and
impressed by our durable city on the North Coast.
Beacon Street had been hosting annual fundraisers for more than two decades, and the planning and
execution of events like that require eager and dedicated volunteers. The energy to put together another
dinner and silent auction for “Have A Heart” 2014
just wasn’t there. But when the thought of hosting an
event to celebrate storytelling crossed my mind, ideas
started ricocheting right and left. It was not difficult to
convince my board.
Beacon Street leans on stories all day long. We use
them to open a program or navigate a turning point.
Often stories we tell rely on audience participation.
They are “the dance” that enable a hundred or more
to move in step, from start to finish. Stories are worth
celebrating, so why not spotlight them as the heart
and soul of our annual fundraiser.
We contacted international storyteller and friend
Ed Stivender (edstivender.com), inviting him to be
the “Once” upon our day. Stivender offered a morning
workshop called “StoryLab” that, at one point, had
a dozen volunteers tag-teaming to retell a Jack Tale
they had just heard from him. He told me later that he
only risks that kind of participation when he senses
the audience is intelligent and up to the challenge. Ed
was impressed with our workshoppers. Thirty-five
had signed up for StoryLab, but we scrambled to find
twenty more chairs before he could begin.
He took the stage that evening for a two-part
concert. Many confessed afterward that they were not
sure a storyteller could fill an evening and keep them
engaged. Stivender made believers of all of them.
Everyone recalled a favorite song or story, but the
variety and physicality of Ed’s performance left them
stunned. No one will forget his rendition of “Dueling
Banjos.” We were the echo.
Robin Pease of “Kulture Kids,” Marisa Matero
of Shaker Heights, and I
offered workshops, too,
to round out the options for
the day. We tried to offer
something for everybody.
Was it a successful
fundraiser? Yes. This was
our most successful in
recent memory, due substantially to some generous
underwriters including the Sisters of Charity Foundation, the Church of the Resurrection in Solon, and
some new and old friends. We also want to express
our gratitude to the Breen Center staff, the Center for
Arts-Inspired Learning (formerly Young Audiences),
and Danielle Gruhler from Kent State University who
helped with promotion and garnering CEU’s.
What’s next? We are still sorting out details, but
we hope to bring Syd Lieberman (sydlieberman.com)
from the Chicago area for workshops, a concert, and
other venues in collaboration with friends from the
Jewish Educational Center of Cleveland.
Syd is a familiar talent on the national scene, and
I enjoy sharing one of the stories I heard him tell in
Orem UT years ago at the Timpanogos Storytelling
Festival. His presence would invite many collaborations made possible by our shared faith stories,
our appreciation of storytelling as an educational
resource, and Lieberman’s desire to awaken the
storyteller in each of us. We will be sure to share the
details with you once our 2015 event is sorted out in
more detail.
Stay tuned.
Page 5
The Beacon
Summer
Dear Akhi,
I made a special effort to include Damascus in a recent business trip to your region. I spent the better part of a morning
waiting at the city gate to meet you. A vendor nearby said you
had just run off following a friend and that you would probably be back soon. I waited as long as I could. I missed you. Why
would you leave your begging bowl unaccompanied for so long?
Disappointed Ed
Dear Dis-appointment-Ed,
I am sorry I missed you, too. Akhi’s days are most blessed when people stop by and sit a while. I regret that
you came a great distance and we did not meet. But I think I know which day you speak of.
I am rarely gone from my place at the gate, and I would never leave my bowl unless a friend called me away.
When a friend calls, Akhi leaves everything and goes. Let me explain.
Akhi has many friends, of course. Most greet me with a smile or a word of blessing every day. But Akhi also
treasures a few friendships that are old and deep. These cherished friends would never call me away at once
unless it was very urgent. When they call, Akhi does not ask why. I just go! Akhi knows that when friends say
“come at once,” I do not need to ask why?
Sometimes we need one another now, and nothing less will do. And on that day, Akhi was pleased to arrive
with my friend to assist another beggar at a different gate. A vendor there was demanding that the beggar leave
his place by the gate. The vendor had struck the poor soul with a stick several times.
But soon there were dozens of us, beggars from several parts of the city. And the vendor paused when he
looked up and realized he was surrounded by those whose voices cry out on behalf of the poor all day long. He
was ashamed. He begged his victim for pardon, and they had tea. He even gave him coins before he wished him
peace and farewell. Praised be Allah.
Akhi knows that enough friends can make a difference, no matter what the threat. So, traveler, continue to
make friends as you go. And when they call, go.
See you next time.
Amicably, Akhi
Our genuine appeal . . .
Dear friends,
Beacon Street recently received a $20 donation from a reader. She said she always read the newsletter when it
arrived at the school office where she worked, and she especially enjoyed “Ask Akhi.” “I appreciated his wisdom
and insights,” she wrote. “I retired in June, so I am including my home address so I can receive The Beacon here.”
Beacon Street would do well to receive $20 from each of our readers. Were that the case, our summer months
would not be so dry, and we could donate even more of our programming.
We are still the only local traveling ministry that uses the arts in a creative and participative manner to proclaim the good news. And we will customize our program to meet the needs as well as the budgets of every client. Evaluations continue to highlight our unique approach, and many clients rely on us year after year.
How can you help? Is that what I hear you asking?
If you believe that a creative “arts” ingredient is a valuable component to a school assembly or a Confirmation
retreat, please add your thoughtful gift to our ensemble. We provided the envelope.
If you think an organization that has never said “no” to a request for ministry in 25 years deserves a lift, lend
us a hand.
If you appreciate that we donated 25% of our services last year because many of our clients are budgetstrapped like we are, you could help us make up the difference.
If you are on the planning team at a church, school, nonprofit, library, or community organization, recommend Beacon Street for your function. We love the challenge. We love the work.
Your kindness at this time will not only be greatly appreciated, it will be completely tax-deductibe. Thank you
for considering our ministry this time around. Respectfully,
Page 6
The Beacon
Summer
Artfully Døne -- Keeping Vigil in Denmark
“You noticed there was not very much for you under the tree this year.” My wife’s statement was true
enough, but at this stage of the game, I get more excited by watching others open their gifts on Christmas
morning. But Jean’s comment was actually a segue to
what she said next. “We have a job for you. You have
to visit David in Denmark for his spring break.” From
across the room I could see the smile growing on my
son’s face.
He was to spend a semester
abroad, living with a family and
studying architecture in Copenhagen. There would be two
study tours in between stumbling
with the language and finding
his way around a remarkably
friendly and compact city. I was
sure he would be just fine, but it
is a parent’s prerogative to visit
sometime during the four-month
stint. We paid for it. And what’s
not to like about twelve days in
Denmark with the boy?
After he left the country, we
volleyed possible itineraries via email and Skype,
settling on hostels and landmarks known for their architectural and historical significance. It wasn’t until
I had cleared customs and was walking into a sea of
onlookers before I realized my son and I had never
nailed down exactly how we should meet up at the
lufthavn (airport). And “tall blond males” pretty much
describes a large proportion of the Danish population.
But it was easy once I stepped out of the congestion –
he was already heading my way.
We walked pedestrian-friendly streets for a mile or
so on a crisp, sunny April Saturday morning on our
way to his school locker. Street performers, grilled
food, bicycles, and small shops everywhere. Jetlag
not withstanding, I was drinking it all in with eyes
wide open.
After a refreshing day with David’s homestay
family, we hopped the train and began our tour with
day and night in Røskilde, a sleepy old town with an
inland harbor. We walked the length of several Viking ships that had been rescued from the shallows,
preserved, and put on display at the museum. I had
just finished the second of Bernard Cornwell’s Saxon
Chronicles so it was not hard for me to imagine these
vessels, laden with warriors and booty, crashing
through white caps on their way home from Wessex a
thousand years ago.
Aarhuus, Denmark’s second largest city, provided
David the opportunity to show me a few things he
had enjoyed on one of his
study tours. Then north to
Skagen, the country’s northern
most point. We walked several kilometers, eventually finding our way to the beach that narrowed to the
last stretch of sand. Barefoot, we both stepped into
the very spot where the North Sea met the Baltic. We
counted twenty-eight ships on the horizon. Very cool.
Very cold.
From there, we could only head south. We stopped
briefly in Aalborg to visit Lindholm Høje. It is the site
of a Viking settlement from 1,000 years ago. Most
of the brown grassy plains were dedicated to burial
grounds. Massive stones were half-buried to outline
ships that bore the remains of ancient mariners and
a few of their treasures. We sat quietly for a while. I
might be related to a few of those who rested there.
A day or two later we were ferried to Aerø, an
island southern most in Denmark, low and green.
Streets near the port were lined with 18th century
houses that held each other up, willingly, each one
painted a different pastel color. The woman whose
responsibility it was to promote tourism on Aerø is a
cousin of a fellow who owns a relatively new CedarLee shop, “The
Wine Spot.” We
knocked on Jytte’s
door on Good
Friday morning. It
opened wide and
there stood Martin,
mustachioed and
curious.
“We’re from
the States. We are
friends of Adam.”
“Bob. David.
Come in. We were
expecting you. We’ve made coffee, and there’s bacon!”
We could smell both as we ducked into the tiny
doorway. Coffee was poured as the conversation began. We learned a great deal about the tiny island and
the couple plied David with many questions about his
studies. Then Martin shared more about Easter events
on Aerø.
“Tomorrow the island goes a little crazy.” We
leaned toward Martin. “At one o’clock, everyone
heads for the beaches. They build fires and they boil
eggs.” That sounded like an ancient tradition, something we would expect in a predominately Lutheran
country. And we had always prepared a few boiled
eggs for Easter back home.
Page 7
The Beacon
Summer
He continued: “And we drink great quantities of
on it, alerted by the thump and beckoned by the rising
beer.” Now that was unique. But these rugged Danes
smoke.
had just endured a longer, darker winter than we are
After about forty-five minutes I realized I was
accustomed to in Cleveland, and so they had every
enjoying what I had thought earlier I would be missright to celebrate. We were intrigued.
ing. There would be no lighting of the new fire at
Jytte had to get to her volunteer post at the indoor
the Vigil for me this year, no sprinkling or gathering
market and David and I had some bicycling to do.
around our Table. Instead, I was sitting by the first
There was at least one other town on the island we
fire of the year, surrounded by water that stretched to
wanted to see. It rained plenty that afternoon, but the
the horizon, sharing good news and breaking bread
sun shone brilliantly on Saturday morning.
with newfound friends. It was welcoming. It was
I must admit I was thinking about the Holy Week
communion. It was good.
services I would be missing back home. Our pasThree hours later, from the ferry, David and I
tor and choir put enormous energy into the liturgical
could see our friends still gathered around the fire
drama surrounding fire, water, and the Eucharist for
where the white incense was swirling up. We waved
the Easter Vigil. I was on the wrong side of the pond. wildly from a quarter mile away as we departed
Saturday morning on Aerø was serene and clear.
Aerøskøbing. Through the telephoto viewfinder on
On a rise just a short walk from town, we were surthe camera I could see Jytte trying to make out if we
rounded by fields of newly sprouting rye, wild grape
were their crazy Americans friends on the top deck.
vines overhead, and stubby trees. David and I folWe would be back at David’s homestay in just a
lowed the narrow cobblestones until we found ourfew hours. He was already reminiscing, saying how
selves at the ferry dock in Aerøskøbing. We sat.
grateful he was for the week of travel. We had seen a
“Do you hear that?” my son asked me.
lot. “But I have a favorite,” he said. “A favorite part
I could hear the thump of music, the bass part.
of the trip.” I waited.
We both turned east to see smoke rising from a long
“Aerø,” he said. “I’m coming back. And I hope I
spit of land, dotted with brightly painted
can come back for Easter.
beach houses and vast clumps of trees.
The last three hours were
“The craziness has begun,” I said.
unforgettable. The beach
“Let’s go.”
was the best. I hated to
It took just twenty minutes to make
leave.” Fire, water, and
our way to where two hundred or more
food. And new friends
youth had gathered, built fires, and
who included us.
cranked up their music. Smoke rose along
Liturgy focuses easily
with voices as Aerø broke free from the
and readily on the most
grip of winter. Turning we saw a group
important, life-sustaining
of twenty adults and a few youngsters in
moments of our journey.
a quieter setting with their own fire right
Or at least it should. The
next to the water. It was Martin and Jytte
Scriptures say God cares
and friends.
little for our sacrifices and
The least we could do is say hello before the
prayer offerings. God doesn’t need liturgy. We do.
4:30pm ferry, so we headed down the sandy path.
That’s why we all have our own traditions, places we
“Bob. David,” Jytte cried out as soon as she recogre-visit, foods we always bring, stories we tell and renized us. We were greeted immediately with warm
tell. And every now and then, there is a surprise for
hugs and a cold beer. Introductions all around. Someus under the tree we decorate year after year.
body started talking to David straight away about his
I had always thought that Holy Week looked
studies while I settled in next to a fellow tending a
back, revisiting the last days of our Savior’s life on
skillet with a wooden handle six feet long.
Earth. More recently, I have come to understand that
“I made fifty pancakes last year,” he boasted. “I
washing feet engendered watchfulness and a willingplan to make fifty-five this year.” He was just one of
ness for future service. Veneration of the Cross was
the close-knit group who had gathered at this very
supposed to sensitize me to the sufferings of others
spot for as many years as any of them could rememaround me now. And perhaps all those Vigils past
ber. It was cheerful, moderately boisterous, and not at
were to help me see more clearly and appreciate more
all crazy. It was wonderful.
deeply the power of the sun, life-giving water, and
The owner of the Rise Brewery (the island’s own)
my communion with all creation, living and inaniwas urging me to sample any of the six different vamate.
rieties of sausage sizzling on a griddle. Two children
Aerø was not a substitute for what I missed. It was
were at ease among the adults. It just seemed like the
my vigil this year. A dramatic and profound liturgy
perfect way to transition from winter to spring, from
among the Danes.
darkness to light. And we had pretty much stumbled
Tak.
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We are here to bring good news using the performing arts
The Resurrection Man at journey’s end John Biro • 1964-2014
Several years ago, we featured the artwork of Daniel Whitely on the cover our Beacon. Dan collaborated with Sr. Leonard
Kelley SIW (now deceased) and four young adults to create
three stunning portraits of Jesus.
Dan painted the new portraits from the dozens of colorful
slides he had to work with. Pictured here is John, our Resurrection Man.
John Biro died last February while residing in a L’Arche
community in Cleveland Heights. Alzheimers had quietly surprised him just a few years earlier and he was no longer able
to manage at home. But his L’Arche family loved him to death.
The large portrait of Jesus modeled after John has hung in
the Biro home ever since John’s mother heard the story of its
creation. “We had always seen Christ in our son,” Joanne told
me more than two decades ago. “But after hearing the story
of how the portraits came to be, I now know that others see
Jesus in John, too.”
We thank God for the gift John was and continues to be in
our memories, our stories, and on a very special canvas.